1965 My 18th Birthday

Lucky me, I spent my 18th birthday on the Eiffel Tower in Paris. I have never liked parties, and my birthday treat was always going out to eat. My choice this time was the restaurant on the Eiffel Tower. We went up to the top first, then to restaurant.  I remember sitting at a table near the windows, with a fabulous view of Paris in the dusk and approaching night.

View from the restaurant

Then casually my dad said "You know, this might not have been such a good idea". 

"Why not?" my mother asked.
"Look at those rivets. The metal is buckling and the rivets are loose. If there is a high wind, they might not hold! It's possible that the whole thing could come down!"

Restaurant

I looked out the window and sure enough, you could see rivets that did seem loose. The restaurant was built in such a way that the glass of the restaurant fit inside the metal framework of the tower and the trusses and crossbeams were clearly visible. He kept talking about this during the whole meal. My mother and sister were visibly upset. Personally, I really didn't care, I didn't believe it for a second and I was too concerned about my meal (sole meuniere, my favorite). I even had some wine.

Workings of the Tower

As we were leaving and getting into the elevator, my dad said "Aren't you glad you got to do this? It will probably have fallen down by your next birthday." Then as my sister and mother turned pale, he laughed and said "I guess Fay is the only one who understands the physics of construction. You have to have some give in any solid structure to allow for movement due to heat and cold, wind, etc.".

It was great moment, one when I felt really close to him. I treasured those moments as he rarely showed emotion and disliked any drama or emotional intensity.  Like father like daughter I guess.

1932 Horsefly

When my dad, Travis, was just a sprout, he desperately wanted a horse, but my grandmother Mary kept saying no, it was too dangerous.  Finally though, when he was 11 or 12, she agreed.  She told Earl what she expected and one day Earl came home with a horse trailer containing Travis's horse.   He was large, and a mangy white color.  Travis was not particularly impressed, but he was a horse, his own horse.  

After a few days, they got to know each other well enough, and he decided to set out for town to show his friends.  Off he went that morning.  Then, couple of hours later, Mary saw him walking back down the dirt road, dejected.  

When he got home, she asked "Where's the horse?  Did he throw you?"  "Of course not" Travis replied.  "He dropped dead right in the middle of the road!"  

My grandmother Mary felt so bad that she let Earl pick the next horse.  This one was black, and apparently very nasty.  He bit everyone and kicked everything.  His name was Horsefly.  He was impossible to ride, or even approach.

Finally, after Travis had been thrown several times, they all agreed that going from one extreme to the other was not a good idea.  This time, they would let Travis make the choice. 

They sold Horsefly and Travis found a little 2-year old filly that he named Pony.   She was a pretty girl, sorrel with a flaxen mane and tail.  My dad was the one who broke and trained her. I loved her.  She died at age 30, in 1952.

1959 BoMARC Missile

We lived right outside of Orono, Maine, and we rented a house. It was awesome, on acreage, with a barn. That’s when my dad worked on the BoMARC missile.
The BoMARC missile was huge: each one stood 45 feet tall & weighed 16,000 pounds. More than 40 years after its deployment, it still holds the record for the longest range of any surface-to-air missile ever developed: 440 miles. It also had a maximum speed of nearly Mach 4.

 The BoMARC name was derived directly from its creators. Boeing designed the vehicle in association with the University of Michigan Aeronautical Research Center. Hence, the "Boeing Michigan Aeronautical Research Center" entry into SAM development was born.  Classification: Surface-to-Air Cruise Missile Length: 43 feet, 9 inches Diameter: 2 feet, 11 inches Wingspan: 18 feet, 2 inches Range: 440 miles.  Dow Air Force Base in Bangor was to be one of the main BoMARC deployment sites but it never happened.

1959 Runaway

Once, when we lived in Orono, Maine, I ran away from home.  I didn’t go alone; I took our dog, Velvet.  

It was early afternoon and we set out, Velvet on his leash, and me carrying my hobo pack on a stick.  In it I had some snacks and some food for Velvet.  We walked out of town for what seemed like several hours.  It was starting to get dark and it occurred to me suddenly that I was all alone out there with nowhere to sleep.  Of course, I wasn’t scared because I had Velvet.  

As it was getting dark, a car pulled up beside me and Velvet got excited.  Sure enough, it was my dad.  He asked me where I was going, and I said “Anywhere!”.  He told me that was fine with him, but I was not taking his dog.  He said “You can continue on your trip, but the dog is coming home with me”.  He stopped the car, and got out.  Oddly enough, when he tried to take Velvet’s leash, Velvet came back closer to me.  I think it hurt my dad’s feeling.  

We negotiated for a bit, but finally I gave in and we all climbed into the car and went home.

1960 Weekend Trip to Texas

Right before Christmas in 1959 when we lived in Maine, my dad had to fly to Vernon, Texas.  I don't remember anything except that he said he had to go to Vernon for a few days and asked if I wanted to go with him. Of course I did! To get to see Grandma and Grandpa King, be at the farm, and fly? Of course I did! We left about a week before Christmas I think and we flew from Logan Airport in Boston. There was some snow on the ground, but it was very clear out and the whole way when we would fly over a city, we could see Christmas lights. As we left Boston and again when we approached Dallas, we could see the Christmas lights and decorations. It was just beautiful. I remember we had a really good meal, though I don't remember what it was.

Then we drove from Dallas to Vernon during the night. I went to sleep in the car ,but I remember looking at the back of Grandpa King's neck, and was amazed at how it was so crisscrossed with wrinkles, making a diamond pattern. We were in his Buick of course.

I remember having such a sense of wellbeing. The car was warm, and the motion of the car and the sound of my dad and granddad talking, knowing I was going home to the farm… I was happy.

I went to bed as soon as we got to the farm, but I could hear my dad and grandparents in the kitchen, still talking and talking. Every time I woke up during the night, they were still talking. The next day I spent wandering around the farm while my dad spent the day with his brother Bill.

Then early the next morning, around 3 or 4 am, they woke me up and said it was time to get ready. I still can feel the heat from the gas wall heaters they had, and the smell of coffee, and Grandma King's toast made under the broiler with butter and then covered with grape jelly. The radio was playing, 'KNIN channel 99 - K-9", playing hillbilly music. Then Grandpa King loaded us up in the Buick and drove us to Love Field in Dallas.   I slept most of the time in the back seat.

Once again it was clear, but this time it was daylight. The highlight of the trip was when I looked out the window and saw a jet fighter not too far from us. I was ecstatic! It was higher and faster and was soon gone, but I had never seen anything like it, before or since. We got back to Logan, where my mother and sister were waiting, then we spent the night with my aunt Audrey, uncle Abbey, and cousins Paul and Douglas. Once again, the grownups seemed to talk all night. I found out later that my Uncle Bill had been in some trouble (again) and his parents had begged my dad to come and talk to him and see if he could help him. I don't know how it worked out, it was never talked about.

I missed one day of school after we got back because I was so tired and homesick for Texas. It was very odd to have only been there for one day.  

1960 When Velvet Almost Died

I had a secret horse named Chess that I visited almost every day when we lived in Maine.

One day Velvet, our Boxer, went with me to visit Chess. Usually I didn't let him because he tended to chase Chess, but that day he came. As soon as Chess and Velvet saw each other, I knew it was a mistake. Chess wouldn't come to me and Velvet kept barking. I was afraid someone would hear him and my days of visiting Chess would be over. Finally, Velvet started to chase Chess and I knew there would trouble. How was I going to catch Velvet to make him stop? The more upset Chess got, the more Velvet chased him. Finally, Velvet got really close and Chess kicked out. I heard a yelp and then Velvet fell to the ground. Chess stopped in front of him and just stood there in a sweat. He let me come right up to Velvet, who was lying on the ground totally still.

I knew he was dead. He had a big gash over his eye and he had blood all over his head. He was totally still but he was breathing. I dragged him out of the pasture and tried to get him to stand up, but he just kept falling to the ground. I realized I had to get him up the hill to the house, so I just started to drag him with my hands under his front legs and backing up that steep slope. I imagine he weighed about 50 lbs and I was not very big for 12 years old. 

Finally, I had to give up and go get my dad. I so dreaded doing that. Velvet was his best friend. I believe I actually told him I thought Velvet was dead. He loved that dog so much his face just turned white. He didn't even asked what happened, I think he probably thought he had run out into the road on one of his famous escapades.

We both ran down the hill and my dad just threw him over his shoulders and got him back to the house. He was still breathing. My dad put him on the couch and got a cloth and water and washed off his head. That was the first (and maybe the only) time I saw my dad cry. He got some of his Johnny Walker Red and put a few drops in Velvet's mouth, then a few more.  I can still hear my mother saying "For God's sake, Travis, you love that dog more than us", and I think it was probably the truth.

I remember being on my knees on the floor with my head on his chest listening to his heart. When we were in Australia I used to lie on the floor using Velvet as a pillow but his heartbeat always seemed too loud and it kept me from falling asleep on him. I thought of that now because it didn't seem that loud anymore. My dad kept talking to him, and stroking him, and finally Velvet came around. My dad immediately loaded him into the car and drove him to the vet. I was not allowed to go, I imagine in case Velvet's injuries were to prove fatal. My dad would have wanted to grieve alone. But that was not to be, thank God.

Velvet came home with many stitches in his head and a shaved head. Apparently he also had a concussion. We nursed him back to health and he never had any ill effects from his kick in the head. However, I had to explain the whole incident to my dad, and I was forbidden from seeing Chess again. He explained all the reason, trespass, liability, etc., and oh yes it all made perfect sense to me, but I still had to go one more time to say goodbye. As much as I loved Chess and our adventures, I felt as though that was my punishment for letting Velvet get hurt. And I accepted that, because I did love Velvet more.

The next day, I went and took him extra apples and laid them in a pile for him and told him it wasn't his fault. It was so hard to say goodbye that day. It was raining and I could smell that wonderful warm horsy smell and the apples. But it had to be I guess.

1960 Arriving in Caracas

We moved to Venezuela from Toledo in December 1960.  I remember my parents sitting in the living room in discussing it, and whether they should let me stay in the US with my aunt and uncle in Boston.  They also gave me the option of going to boarding school.  I didn't want to do either, I wanted to go!

Mother, Lydia, and I took the Grace Line ship, Santa Paula, from Port Everglades to Caracas, where Daddy met us.  The next day, we went up a ski-lift type thing to the very top of a mountain to a tower-like hotel.  I still remember the name of it, the Hotel Humboldt.  It was above the clouds, it was amazing.

Then we flew from Manquetia Airport in Caracas to Barcelona.  It was a small prop plane.  I was sitting on the water side, and I looked down and saw a circular rainbow, like a rainbow ring.  I never saw once before or since. People traveling in airplanes often see the plane’s shadow cast on a cloud, surrounded by a circular rainbow.  of light.   It's called a 'glory', a 'pilot's bow', or an 'anti corona'.  A glory is made of sunlight scattered back toward you. It’s much smaller than a rainbow, and it’s made by light scattered from the droplets of a cloud, instead of falling raindrops.

Then when we arrived in Barcelona, we were driven to Puerto La Cruz.  We lived inside a compound.  My father was an engineer who built refineries.  I guess Americans were not particularly popular at the time with local Venezuelans so we were kept under lock and key for our own protection.  When we needed to go to the grocery store, we had a driver who escorted us to the store and I guess would have protected us if something had happened.

Even at age 14 I remember the poverty and the grimness of the locals.  There was a Sears & Roebuck in town, which surprised me.  The grocery store was pretty similar to what we had in the US.  It was a strange place.  I loved our house, it was 3 sides of a square with the 4th side being a hedge of camellias.   inside the square we had a courtyard where we ate all our meals.  When my parents had parties, everyone would dance in the courtyard.  There were flowers everywhere, and parrots  We had a mango tree and banana trees.  I loved it.

1955 Port Arthur

My mother hated Port Arthur.  I liked it okay.  I got to spend a lot of time outside, at least when we first moved there.  

Then the polio epidemic hit, and it hit that area hard.  Everyone was paranoid.  In fact, our next door neighbor was a doctor and he had a son named Doug.  Doug wore braces on his legs and used crutches because he had polio. I remember my parents talking about how awful it was for a doctor’s son to have it. What is it they say? The doctor’s son is the last to get the shot? It was so true in this case. I remember they also had a Boxer like our dog Velvet. I was never allowed to talk to Doug and I felt so sorry for him.  Sometimes I would sneak a conversation over the fence.  It was very sad, and I wasn't allowed to play outside anymore either.  

We followed the progress of the Salk vaccine thanks to my Uncle Abbey who worked for a drug company.    When it was finally approved, it was like a miracle.  It was like we had been set free.

Interestingly, when we went to Normandy not long after that, we took some vaccine with us because it wasn't yet available in Europe.  It stayed in the refrigerator until we were due for our immunizations.

"April 12th had almost become a national holiday: people observed moments of silence, rang bells, honked horns, blew factory whistles, fired salutes, kept their red lights red in brief periods of tribute, took the rest of the day off, closed their schools or convoked fervid assemblies therein, drank toasts, hugged children, attended church, smiled at strangers, and forgave enemies."

1954 Dollhouse

We built a dollhouse in Australia.  I don’t know how it started, but both my parents were very involved.  It was made of sheets of balsa wood.  My dad did the planning and construction, and my mother did the decorating, with the help of my sister and me.  We carved furniture and appliances out of balsa wood, which is very soft, and then painted them.  My mother and I sewed little blankets and upholstered furniture.  My sister didn’t really do much but make a mess (she was only 2 or so).  

The house was huge and covered nearly the entire the dining room table.  My dad wired it and somehow he made lights for the inside.  

When it was time for us to leave Australia, we were all heartbroken.  We gave the dollhouse to some friends of my parents and they promised they would finish it.   I think about that dollhouse all the time.  

1954 Curry in Calcutta

In 1954, we moved to Australia.  We left New York and flew to London, where my dad had to meet with the London office of his company, Foster-Wheeler.   Then we flew to Sydney.  The trip lasted four days.  

We flew TWA in a Super Constellation (Super Connie), a 4-engine prop plane with a triple tail.  We even had sleeping compartments.  It was more like a train than a plane.

Calcutta Dum Dum Airport

 We landed in Calcutta and I remember eating at the 
airport restaurant.      
    
My mother ordered curry, and when it arrived, it looked like dirty dishwater.  My father said "Are you really going to eat that?".  My mother said "Yes, I am", and she did. 

She always said it was the best curry she had ever had.

1953 My Poor Puppy

After we had been in Colombia a month or so we got a little puppy.  He was a mongrel of some kind, brown, with floppy ears.  He was really cute and I loved him a lot.  

One day after the usual summer torrential rain, the pavement was steaming and had that unique smell of hot wet asphalt.  I looked for the puppy, and then I saw him in the street.  He looked odd, like he was sniffing the road, and then he fell over.  I couldn't imagine what was wrong with him, so I went to get him, and his face was stuck to the road.  He was looking at me with his big brown eyes and somehow even at age 6, I knew.  

I ran crying to the house to get my dad, and he went and picked him up and took away, and I never saw him again.  I couldn’t stop seeing those eyes looking at me, saying help me.  That smell of hot, wet asphalt, is burned into my memory even now.  

My poor little puppy, I can't even remember his name.

1952 Annie's Caddy

In Normandy, my parents’ friends, the Lovells, and their daughter Annie lived about 2 houses away from us.  I remember their Cadillac, it was so pretty.  It was black with chrome.  I kept telling my dad how much I loved Annie’s Cadillac and he would get mad and growl, “It’s not a Cadillac, it’s a Buick”.  

I found out later that he and his dad had had lifelong battles about Buicks versus Fords.  My dad was a Ford man.  Actually, we owned a Hillman Minx, which was pretty small.  My mother absolutely hated it.  She never drove it; she and I went everywhere with Annie and her mother in their Cadillac.   

1952 Hillman Minx

1952 Buick

Annie was mean and she was always getting me in trouble.  My mother couldn’t stand her and neither could I.  Unfortunately, because our dads worked together, we couldn’t get away from each other.   

One day Annie and I had a fight and I beat the hell out of her.  It felt really good.  After that, we didn't play together much.  I think my dad was pretty proud of me, even though I was only about 5 years old.

1952 Normandy Version 1.0

We moved to Notre Dame de Gravenchon in early 1952 when I was about 4-1/2 years old.  My memories are pretty vague.  For probably one of the only times in my life, I don’t remember us having a dog.  I know I would not have forgotten if we had.  

Dot was our house

 On the other hand, we were only there around 2 years, maybe less.  My dad was working for the engineering company at the Port Jerome oil refinery.  At the time it was one of the biggest in Europe.  It was the first time my mother had lived out of the country, and I think she loved it.

The refinery at Port Jerome

We left Normandy in June 1953.  We traveled on the SS Liberte, the flagship of la Compagnie Generale Transatlantique (i.e., the French Line).  We had come from New York on the Ile de France, her sister ship.   I don’t remember that trip though.

When we got back to the US, we stayed with my aunt Audrey and uncle Abbey until we left for Colombia.  

1950 Brookline

When my dad got back from the Pacific, they moved back to College Station so he could finish Texas A&M University.  After graduation, around 1948 or 1949, when I was still a small baby, he was sent to Abidan in Persia (now Iran) by his first employer, Foster-Wheeler, to work at the refinery.  At the time, it was the world‘s largest.  My mother and I went to live in Brookline, Massachusetts, with her parents until he returned in 1951.  I don’t remember much about that time.

Refinery in Abidan

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I would sit on my grandfather Arthur’s lap facing him and comb his hair down over his face.  In the style of the times, he had long hair combed back.  I would come it all down over and over again.  I remember he had a mustache and he laughed when I did this.

Another thing I remember is going to nursery school.  My mother would walk me there and back, or sometimes my Aunt Audrey did.  She was my mother’s sister and she loved me, I was her little doll.  She was probably around 20 or so at that time.  My grandmother Frieda and my mother both would yell at her for putting her laundry rack in the bathtub and never taking it out.  Funny the things you remember.

We would take my mother’s Cocker Spaniel Muffin for walks in the snow.  I remember a coat with a round collar with a bunch of buttons that took forever to fasten.  I remember we lived on Sewell Avenue.

I don’t remember it, but apparently we went to see the Red Sox at Fenway Park fairly often. 

1961 - Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela

We moved to Venezuela in December 1960.  I remember my parents sitting in the living room in Toledo discussing it, and whether they should let me stay in the US with my aunt and uncle in Boston or take me with them.  They also gave me the option of going to board school.  I didn't want to do either, I wanted to go!
 

Mother, Lydia, and I took the Grace Line ship, Santa Paula, from Port Everglades to Caracas, where Daddy met us.

The next day, we went up a ski-lift type thing to the very top of a mountain to a hotel. above the clouds, it was amazing.

Then we flew from La Guaira Airport in Caracas to Barcelona.  It was a small prop plane.  I was sitting on the water side, and I looked down and saw a circular rainbow, like a rainbow ring.  


Then when we arrived in Barcelona, we were driven to Puerto La Cruz.  We lived inside a compound.  My father was an engineer who built refineries.  I guess Americans were not particularly popular at the time with local Venezuelans so we were kept under lock and key for our own protection.  When we needed to go to the grocery store, we had a driver who escorted us to the store and I guess would have protected us if something had happened.

Even at age 14 I remember the poverty and the grimness of the locals.  There was a Sears & Roebuck in town, which surprised me. Inside the grocery store my mother would sing along to the music on the radio (usually old American classics) which totally mortified me.  She would say "I was good enough to sing on the radio but I’m not good enough for the grocery store".  I was embarrassed because people would look at us, ‘crazy Americans’.  We had TV, but of course it was in Spanish.  I remember watching Olivia de Havilland in a movie and being amazed at how good her Spanish was.  We watched "Bonanza" and "77 Sunset Strip" in Spanish too.

The main attraction there was the country club.  There was a huge pool surrounded by palm trees on a grassy ledge overlooking the Caribbean.  It was beautiful.  That’s where my dad taught me to drink beer, sitting looking out at the water, watching the iguanas come up to be petted.  They had a big outdoor movie screen and once a week we would go see the popular movies showing in the US.  The only one I  remember is "Song Without End" about Franz Liszt which had to be the longest movie in known history.

I had a pretty good friend there name Pat and she also had a Boxer dog.  She and I would climb down the rocks from the Club and take our dogs to where there was an old pier.  Then we would throw them off and haul them back in.  I think they enjoyed it, I hope so.

I had another friend, Laurie, who looked like Elizabeth Taylor.  I didn't like her much.

What I remember most about our house was that there was no glass in the windows.  I remember talking to a kid in my class, Mark Hankinson  on the phone for 5 hours.  I'd never done before and never have done it since.  My main crush, though, was Dane Petrie.  He looked just like Paul Petersen on the Donna Reed Show.  His dad worked for Phillips Petroleum.

Our school was a small prefab building, there were several of them.  Each one held 2 grades.  I remember listening to Robert Frost reading a poem for JFK's inauguration during class.  That would have been January 20, 1961.  Our Boxer, Velvet, was always escaping from our yard and he would come find me at school.  The teacher would let him in the classroom and he would lie beside my desk all day.  At the time, I could still speak French, and we were being taught Spanish.  Our teacher couldn't speak English at all and so it was pretty confusing.  Every time I tried to say something in Spanish it evolved into French!

We were sent home about 2 months later, all the families were.  I was sad to go.  It was a beautiful place.  We had camellia hedges and banana trees.  Our yard was like a small jungle and I would sit up in the mango tree and eat them until I was sick.  The taste of a ripe mango still takes me back to 1961 in the hot fragrant jungle.

I can't find any trace or mention of that oil camp.  I'm sure it's long gone.  The Venezuelan government took over all the oil operations.  I wish I had some pictures.  I loved that place.  These look a little like it.